Battle of Will and Won't
by Nyte Quill
Summary: 'Whenever she says no, the conversation is over.' House and Cuddy are having yet another argument in her office, but what are they really fighting about? please R&R, whether you like it or not.


Sunlight streamed in from the floor to ceiling windows on the west wall, signaling the end of another day. It bounced off the dark oak bookshelves brimming with medical texts, nourished the sun-starved plastic fichus in the corner, glossed the charcoal leather chairs, and skimmed the ultra modern chrome and glass fixtures that comprised the rest of the furniture in the room, including the large desk where war was once again being waged.

"You know we can't afford new Scan Scopes for the lab, so stop bugging me," implored Lisa Cuddy, Chief Administrator of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Her ebony corkscrew curls were coming out in chunks over this constant bickering.

Across the desk, Gregory House - 'brilliant' surgeon, master of differential diagnosis, and a legend in his own mind- abandoned his statistics-laden contentions in favor of a tried and true argumentative technique.

"Why_**not?!**_" he bellowed, crossing his arms over his lab coated chest and adopting a petulant pout worthy of the most spoiled two year old. His short sandy hair stuck up in disheveled waves from taking out his frustrations on it, at odds with the perpetual stubble on his jawline, but still lending a further boyishness to his posture. That was it. He had found the chink in her armor. Humor was her weakness, especially when it came to him. But this was not the time to give in. The funds he was asking for, while potentially beneficial to a few patients, would be better served elsewhere in the hospital. The budget simply couldn't stand selfish indulgences at the expense of widespread benefit, and it was time he learned that. She allowed herself the smallest of internal giggles, squared her shoulders and attempted to explain again why she had to say no.

"Because," she began, in a patiently patronizing tone commonly used with slow toddlers and ex-husbands, "I know you're just trying to get me to say yes to a new toy, and you have so many already. Why don't you just play with the ones you already have?"

Of course, he was having none of it. "Listen, if it was only for elective candidates, or just used to look for zebras, then I'd have to agree with you. I can be sensible like anyone." He chose to ignore the disbelieving arched brow she directed at him. "But this is important and potentially life-saving for anyone whose test results get processed in updated equipment. Isn't that what we're all about here? Saving people and greater good and all that."

She sighed. It was no use. This was not going to be resolved with logic or superior willpower; it came down to rank. With another small exhalation, she pulled out the big gun. "No. And since my earlier arguments failed to penetrate that concrete cranium of yours, try this on for size: I am the Chief Administrator, which means I'm the boss, which means this conversation is over when I say NO."

H was debating saying more; she could see it in his face. Pride was warring with that common creature worry of steady income, and his added inducement of weekly puzzles. Eventually, he gave up... or realized he needed to change tactics. But whatever it was, she was grateful for the respite from their recent bout of incessant fights.

"You get some kind of perverse pleasure from turning me down, don't you?" He grinned from across the desk. She couldn't resist the answering smile that tugged at her lips. "Not a lot, but enough. What can I say? Sometimes it's the highlight of my day." Finally... peace.

She should have known a ceasefire wouldn't last. "Oh, come on, Cuddy-"

Her hands connected with the desktop in a hard slam that halted his speech. "Damn it, House! You know, every once in a while, you could spoil it for me by asking for something I can actually say _yes_ to."

He was silent for a moment, absently fiddling with his cane handle as though debating hauling himself from the room in retreat. The urge to goad him just a little proved impossible to stifle.

"Ha. See? I knew you couldn't come up with -"

"Love me." It was said in a voice so soft she couldn't be sure she had heard him, or at least not heard him right.

"Wha... what did you say?"

His piercing blue eyes honed in on her steely gray orbs, watching with his diagnostician's skill for her reaction to his words as he repeated in a slightly louder tone, "Love me."

She straightened slightly, shrinking back a bit, hands flexing on the smooth wood. "You're serious?"

It was a whisper. "Yes."

She pushed off from the desk and strode purposefully to the door. She needed air, space, time... anything. "Something I haven't... already done..." she said to the glass, pulling the chrome frame open.

His face appeared in the pane beside the opened portal, luminous sunlight obliterating everything but the look in his eyes. "And profoundly regret, right?" His reflection asked, a sneer of derision twisting his features to mask the pain he knew he couldn't hide from her.

The conversation was over. "No." And with that, she walked out the door, leaving him behind.


End file.
